Creating a Monster
by WhatAmI88
Summary: Otis's childhood and how he became who he is. Trigger warnings for child abuse. Read at your own risk.
1. Chapter 1

I heard yelling in the kitchen. Mommy was drunk already. I wasn't very good at telling time, since I couldn't read the clocks yet, but I knew it was early in the afternoon. Daddy wasn't home from work yet, but it was after lunch. She had eaten. I had not.

I was only six, but I could read really well. Some nice man I had run into when I was taking a walk took me to a place called a church and taught me to read in something called the Bible. That was last year. Once my parents had found out, I wasn't allowed to walk on the street anymore. I had to stay in the yard. He was such a nice man. He always gave me big hugs and had a treat for me, usually candy. He always told me about how much he missed his son, who had died in the war. He was so kind to me. I really missed him.

"Son? Come here." It always worried me when she was being nice, not screaming at me. I wandered to the kitchen and sat down in the chair in front of her. "What should I name you?" She stroked my face, brushing my hair out of my eyes. My hair was just a little past my shoulders, and snow white. I actually really liked my hair...But Mommy and Daddy didn't.

"H...huh? I...I don't know mommy." I was starting to get scared. She was never nice to me.

"Hmm...How about Lucifer?" She smirked wickedly. I flinched. "What names do you like?"

"I...I...I..." I stammered. I wasn't sure what was going to happen. "I...I like Otis..."

She laughed. "Otis? Where did you see that name?"

"I...i...in the papers...l...like from Duck Soup..."

"Duck Soup? What kind of nonsense are you talking about, you fuckin' dumbass?"

"I...I..." I didn't have a chance to finish before she slapped me across the face.

"You're fuckin' stupid. You're a waste of fuckin' air and time and space." She grabbed my face, squeezing it. "I should have had you aborted. You're the devil's child, not your fathers. No one looks like you do except the children of the devil. Don't you know that?"

I had heard this before. She had told me I was the devil's child as long as I could remember those words making sense. "B...But Mama...I...I didn't do anything wrong..."

She grabbed my throat then. "Don't you tell me you didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one who decides that." She squeezed my throat. "I just want a normal son. One who isn't the son of Satan. Those red fuckin' eyes always starin' back at me. I hate them."

I couldn't help my eye color. I didn't understand. I didn't worship Satan, or even really fully understand who he was. I whimpered; her hand hurt around my throat.

An idea must have crossed her mind. "I can make you look more normal." She picked me up and carried me to the bathroom. She sat me down on a stool that she usually made me sit in for hours. She wrapped a towel around my shoulders. I was confused. She pulled scissors and daddy's razor out of a drawer and sat them on the sink. She pulled her fingers through my hair, which was a little past my shoulders. She yanked on it, pulling it away from my head, and started hacking at it with the scissors.

I whimpered. "N...no...Please..."

"Shut the fuck up. At least if you don't have white hair you just look like you're sick. You're a fuckin' freak, but not everyone has to know I gave birth to a sideshow creation."

Once she had chopped most of my hair off, she took the razor to my scalp. She cut me a few times, but I was already crying. It didn't really matter.

When she was done, she kicked the stool out from under me, sending me toppling over. Then she grabbed me, bent me over her knee and pulled my pants down. "You could have been such a beautiful little boy." She spanked me until I couldn't feel it anymore, put me down and gave me a swift kick. I scuttled to my room, diving under my bed and curling into a ball.

I wished I could fold myself into a tiny piece of paper and hide between the cracks int he floorboards so they couldn't see me. Couldn't find me. They wouldn't care. They just wouldn't have their entertainment.

I wasn't sure how much time went by, but I heard my door open. Within seconds, I was being drug out from under my bed. It was my mother. She was drunker now.

She threw me on my bed, climbing on top of me. "You little fucker. You ruined my life since the day I was born. I should have had you fucking aborted." She hit me, pounding and pounding until I couldn't see so much blood was running down my face. "I hate you. I fucking hate you. I should just kill you, but hiding your body isn't worth the fucking trouble, is it?" I sobbed, shaking my head. I was trembling. I couldn't defend myself from her. She would think I was trying to fight back. Then it would be even worse. Her hands were one thing, but when she hit me with a broom or one of Daddy's belts, it was awful. I whimpered, trying to sink into the battered old mattress. "I can't wait till your daddy gets home. He's gonna have a real good time with you tonight." She slapped me one more time before she left. I had no idea what she meant by that. Usually they only beat me...what else did they have in mind?

I rested on my bed, taking in what little sleep I could. I startled awake when I heard glass breaking. Maybe, he wouldn't look in my closet for me. Maybe if he didn't see me lying here right away he would leave me alone.

"Where are you, you little shit?" He laughed cruelly. "Where are you, little mouse?"

I shuddered. I could feel my heart pounding.

"Where are you?" I heard him slamming the drawers in the dresser, then a long silence. He whipped open the closet door and I screamed. I tried to run away, but he grabbed me, clapping a hand over my mouth. He held me by my throat, throwing me on the bed. "You think you can get away from me?" He hit me and the room spun. A cigarette hung from his lip, ashes falling on me.

"P...p...please...I...I...I'll be good." I trembled, fighting back tears. He hated it when I cried. It made him angrier.

"Hmm..." He smirked. "What makes you think you're not being good? What did you do?"

"H...huh?" Terror coursed through my veins. I didn't know what to do. "I...D...didn't do a-anything..."

He tapped the ashes off of his cigarette. He paused for a moment, then lifted my shirt and put it out on my skin. I shrieked in pain as he laughed. "Boy, do you want me to love you?"

My eyes lit up. I wanted them to love me more than anything. I just wanted some kind of affection. I just wanted to be held and kissed and loved, like other kids. I sat up abruptly, forgetting for a moment who I was talking to. "Yes! More than anything! Please, Daddy!"

He was amused, but his expression turned darker. "What makes you think you deserve love? You're the spawn of Satan. No one will ever love you. You're worthless, ugly and evil. I'll show you what you do deserve." He tore off my pants and flipped me so that I was lying on my stomach. I had no idea what he was going to do next. "Get on your knees. Stay facing the wall.

I shook. What was he going to do to me? Why did I deserve this? He grabbed my head and shoved it into the bed. The position hurt my back and made my butt stick out. I didn't like it.

I screamed when I felt him slam into me. I clawed at the bed, desperately trying to get away. I managed to get out of his grasp and fell all over myself on the floor. I tried to get to the door, but my mother blocked it. He eventually cornered me, towering over me. I curled into a ball and sobbed. There was nothing else I could do.

"You little shit. You fucking LITTLE SHIT." He threw punch after punch until blood stained his fist. He picked me up and drug me back to the bed, putting me in the same position. This time, he was even rougher as he slammed into me again. I wished lightning would come and strike him dead. Maybe it would kill us both and I wouldn't have to hurt anymore. I'm not sure how long it went on, but it seemed like forever. When he was done, he flipped me over onto my back. I never felt pain like I did now. Blood ran from between my legs. He stared at me, chuckling. I lowered my head submissively. "You liked that, didn't you?"

I shook my head, avoiding his eyes. "N...no..." He brought his hand down on my ribs, hard enough for me to hear them crack. I screamed, writhing against him. He moaned.

"Tell me you like it. TELL ME YOU LIKE IT YOU WORTHLESS LITTLE SLUT." He slapped me across the face. "TELL ME YOU LIKE IT WHEN I FUCK YOU."

Sobbing, tears obscuring my vision, I looked at him. "I l...like it...w...when y...you fuck me..."

"Good...I own you now. Always remember that. Even when you're a grown man. Always remember you're mine." I heard he door click behind him, and started to sob. I cried until I felt like I couldn't cry anymore. I tried to sleep, but I was in so much pain that night, I hardly could. I just wanted them to love me. I wanted them to hold me and give me kisses and hug me and tell me how much they loved me.


	2. Chapter 2

Mommy always called me a fat worthless fuck. I flinched any time I heard the word 'fuck' now, because it made me think of what Daddy started doing to me so often. I hated it. It made me feel so disgusting and dirty. Deep down in my guts, I felt like I hated myself. Why shouldn't I? That's all I've ever been told...

"You stupid son of a bitch. I wish you would just waste away to nothin' and die. But then we'd have to hide your corpse. And you ain't even worth that effort." She slammed me against the wall. I was naked, and she was touching me in a place I didn't want to be touched. I squirmed. She smiled. "You're gonna grow up to be big like your daddy, I bet." She cackled.

"P...please...please s...stop...Mommy..." Blood was running from my face. My lip was split, so any time I spoke, I spit blood everywhere.

"Bitch, I have just started." She slammed me into the wall again. Harder this time. I felt the air whoosh out of my lungs. I gasped for air.

"Tim! Get in here, he's gettin' warmed up for you!" She laughed.

Daddy walked in the room, cigarette hanging from his mouth like always. I hated the smell of smoke. He carried a bottle of something in his hand that sloshed around. He was probably drunk.

"Come on, little mouse. It's time to play." He undid his belt, pulling it from his jeans and started beating me with it. I whimpered in pain, weak from the beating I had already gotten from Mommy. "You know you deserve this, don't you, you little fuckin' whore." He pounded on me again. "Bitch. You don't even deserve me bein' as gentle as I am."

Gentle. He thought he was being gentle.

He spun me around and pressed his mouth to mine. I tasted whatever he was drinking. It made me want to vomit.

"You little fuckin' piece of shit." He threw me onto my bed, pinning my face against the headboard before I had a chance to move. He slid me up so my chest was against the headboard and began his new favorite method of torturing me. All I could do was cry. I hated every second of this. It hurt so much more than being beaten. I could feel him pressing me against the headboard harder, then start slamming me over and over and over again, with each of his thrusts.

Suddenly I heard a bunch of cracks, and mind-blowing pain rip through my body. He had broken my ribs. I screamed, the world going black.

"He fuckin' passed out!" I heard as I came back to the world.

"No, his eyes are open." Mama laughed.

"He went real limp there for a second." I heard him laugh cruelly. "Is that because you like it, you little whore?" He slammed into me hard, and I bit back a screech. "ANSWER ME."

"N...no..."

"What?" He grabbed my face and made me look at him. "What did you say? I said. You must like it. Think good before you answer, boy."

I gulped. "Y...y...yes..."

"Good." He continued, merciless in his torture. It seemed like forever until he screamed and let me go. I always knew when he screamed, I was free.

Mommy stayed in the room after Daddy left. "You're a fat fucking piece of shit. You know, maybe I could actually love you if you weren't so fat."

I didn't understand. As thin as I was now, she thought I was fat? I saw other kids walking along the street during the day. They were heavier than I was, and she was calling me fat?

I felt a glimmer of hope, though. Maybe if I could just be a little skinnier she would love me.

She stood and approached me. I flinched, tears running down my face. Please don't hurt me. I was in so much pain I thought I would die. She grabbed my rib cage and pressed down on it, feeling the bones move under her hand. I screamed in agony, howling at the merciless touches.

"Dumb fucker broke your ribs. Can't have fun with you for a couple days, you'll fuckin' die, and then what'll we do with your fuckin' useless body?" She spat. I was extremely thankful that I wouldn't be beaten for a few days, but I knew I wouldn't be fed, either. "It's a damn shame you're such a fuckin' waste." She walked out, leaving me alone.

The next few days I starved myself. When they left, I usually scavenged for food, but I didn't. I was in too much pain to really move around too much, and I was trying to win my mother's affections.

I felt myself growing weaker by the end of the week. I would have to eat something eventually. I found something to eat in the dumpster in the alley adjacent to our home, and tottered back inside. My ribs still hurt, and breathing was excruciating.

That night, my mother came into my room. I stood proudly, offering a smile.

"What the fuck are you smilin' at, fucker?"

"D...Do you love me now? I...I lost weight..." I knew I had. My clothes were bigger.

She laughed as if I had said the funniest thing in the world. "Look at you! You're even uglier than you were before, you fuckin freak! I could never love you!" She continued to laugh. I had starved myself for nothing...I began to cry.

"B...b...but y...you said...you s...said you could love me...i...if I was skinnier..."

"You piece of fucking shit. I couldn't ever love you. NO ONE could ever love you. You're nothing. You're not worth. Anything. Can't you get that through your stupid thick fucking skull?"


	3. Chapter 3

Hope came in the form of a man that would stop by and talk to me when I was in my yard playing. He was kind to me, and often brought me treats. I relished in the sweet candies he sometimes brought me from the store, and savored the food he brought me.

"You're such a skinny little thing..." He often lamented. I looked forward to seeing his face every day. He gave me big warm hugs that always felt so good. Sometimes he would stay and read to me, just like the other kind old man that I had known! It made me so happy.

One day, Mommy and Daddy came home and took the old man into the house, inviting him for dinner. I played in the yard until they were done. I worried for the older man. Would they hurt him like they hurt me?

Finally, the old man came back out of my house. I ran up to him. "Will you read to me some more?"

He licked his lips. "Sure. I'll read to you. Come on back in your house." I followed him, walking upstairs to my bedroom with him, where Mommy and Daddy were waiting, too. I should have turned around and run.

That was the worst night of my life. All three of them beat me while I was naked, tied down on my bed, screaming in agony. They eventually put a gag in my mouth to shut me up. They all touched me in ways and places I never want to be touched again, and then all three of them fucked me...Even Mama, who never fucks me. I felt so disgusted with myself. I felt dirty, broken and used. I learned to never trust anyone ever again. The man had been so nice to me, but he ended up being just like my mother and father. I hated him.

I stopped going outside all together. No one else could hurt me if I just stayed to myself. I couldn't meet anyone else who would be like the man. I often hid under my bed, even on nights when Mommy and Daddy left me alone. Too much bad stuff had happened to me in the bed. I didn't feel comfortable in it anymore, ever. Only scared.

"You're such a stupid fuck. Won't even sleep where he's supposed to now." She laughed.

As I got older, I found I was able to struggle against them more, and found myself crying less. I had grown hard-hearted and hateful, bitter. They eventually chained me down to my bed and only let me up when they were torturing me. One day I would get out of this. One day I would win.

They had started having their friends over. They all did the same thing to me. So many people at one time...I always hurt so much afterward. I couldn't stand it.

One day I would stop this. One day I would take it into my own hands. I had to.

I was 13 now. I was becoming a man. My voice was becoming deeper and I was growing hair on my face. I was starting to look like my father.

That night, they had beaten me until I was nearly unconscious, and then raped me. I couldn't even struggle anymore. Every movement sent shards of pain through my whole body. I gave into the darkness that called me.

When I came to hours later, they hadn't tied me back up. I crept out into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. I was still in so much pain. I could tell that my ribs were broken again. My hip hurt so bad, I could hardly walk. I had to stiffle a scream with every foot step. My body screamed at me to stop moving.

I wandered into their bedroom. They were both asleep. I would finally be free. It was their stupid mistake to leave me untied.

I slit both of their throats, listening to the gurgle as they drowned in their own blood. I was free. They couldn't hurt me anymore.

Fear suddenly rose in my gut. What if I was thrown in jail for killing them? What if people found out...I had to get away from their bodies.

I gathered what few things I had and threw them into a bag, hurrying away. I limped into the street, hobbling as best as I could away from the house. I made it a few blocks before I couldn't take the pain anymore, and collapsed onto the concrete, screaming as my body crashed against it. It was dark, and I had no idea where I was. Maybe I would die here. At least I would have gained my freedom.

I awoke to someone shaking me. "Hey, buddy, are you okay? Jesus...you're covered in blood...We need to get you to a hospital."

I forced my eyes open. A young man was standing over me. He looked like he was going to work. He knelt down to pick me up. "P...please...please, no..."

"It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt ya. I just want to get you to a doctor..." He picked me up and I screamed. It seemed like my injuries had gotten worse overnight. I don't know how or why, but everything hurt so much worse. He loaded me into his car and drove me to a large building, rushing me inside where it seemed like hundreds of people worked on me. I was so scared, until someone put a needle in my arm and I fell into blackness.


	4. Chapter 4

"He has a pelvic fracture, but there's nothing we can do about it. Surgery won't fix it. It just has to heal on its own. He has vertebral fractures in his thoracic and lumbar vertebrae that are the same way. His ribs are nothing but a mess. I can't do anything about them, either. They've been broken so many times and healed wrong that it's...just better to let them heal on their own at this point. Other than that, he has a bad laceration on his arm and on his side that needed stitches, I stitched up those ones on his head and his split lip, and set his broken nose...He has an orbital blowout fracture on his left eye..."

"Did the man who brought him in say anything...?"

"He just found him on the street. He's never seen him before in his life. The kid's in real bad shape, though...He only weighs 68 pounds. I think that's why so many of his bones are broken; he's malnourished. He's been through hell."

I opened my eyes. A man in a white coat and a woman in a white uniform with a red cross on her hat were talking next to the bed I was lying in.

"Well, there he is. Hey, kiddo." He offered a kind smile.

I was terrified. I didn't know these people, and I had learned the hard way about trusting anyone.

"Hello, sweetheart. I'll be taking care of you, okay?" The woman smiled at me, too. "My name is Gloria."

I tried to sit up, whimpering in agony at the pain that shot through my system.

She rushed to my side, resting her hand on my chest. I screamed and flinched away, trembling. "Oh, no no, sweetie. I won't hurt you. Just rest...Just lie down. You're in no shape to get up right now."

She and the man exchanged a glance. It looked like they knew what had happened to me, judging by the dread on their faces.

"D...d...d...don't...h...hurt me...p...please...please...please...please don't h...hurt me...I h...hurt s...so much...pl...please..." I sobbed, begging them. When I breathed, it hurt so much worse. I knew my ribs were badly broken.

"No, no...We won't hurt you here. You're safe here...Whatever happened to you will never happen again. Especially not here. I promise." The man looked so sad, looking at me. I had seen that face before. On the old man. He felt bad for me. But would he turn on me, too? "Can I take a look at your eye, buddy? It won't hurt, I promise. I'm just gonna shine a light in your eyes, okay?"

I nodded. I wondered if they had noticed my red eyes yet.

He leaned close to me and shined the light in my eyes. "Wow...I didn't notice that before..."

"What?" Gloria asked.

"He's albino. His eyes are red. That's why he's so pale. I'd be willing to bet if he had any, his hair would be white. Wow...I've never seen an albino human before." He turned off the light. "He also has a subconjunctival hemorrhage in his left eye. Someone really did a number on him..."

"Do you remember what happened sweetie?" Gloria reached out to touch my arm. I flinched away, whimpering.

"N...no..." I lied. I remembered every detail. Every blow. But I was too scared.

"Okay." She seemed to know I was lying. "You just rest, honey...What's your name?"

"I...I...I...I d...don't have one..."

"What? Every body has a name...Okay, what do you want us to call you?"

My eyes darted from person to person, measuring their reactions. "O...Otis..."

"Okay, Otis. You just rest and we'll get you something to eat, okay?"

I nodded. I was so, so scared. I didn't know these people. I didn't trust them. What would they do to me?

I tried to relax, eventually falling asleep. The feeling of being elevated woke me up. Gloria was propping my bed up so I could sit up. I started trembling.

"Ooh, sweetie. It's okay." She reached out to stroke my face. I threw myself against the bedrails, shrieking in fear. "Shhh, shh shh...It's okay. It's okay." She wheeled a tray in front of me with food on it. "Are you hungry, Otis?" I shook my head. "Really? Well, how about you try and eat a little bit for me, anyway? Can you do that for me?" I nodded, and began to eat the food that was in front of me. It tasted so good, and warmed my belly. I ended up eating everything that was on the tray. "Good job, sweetheart. That's a very good job."

Her praise confused me. I was usually punished and beaten for eating that much. Why wasn't she angry?

"How old are you, Otis?"

"Th...thirteen..."

She smiled softly. "That's a good age." She hesitated. "Are you sure you don't remember anything that happened, Otis?"

I gulped. "No..."

"Okay...Promise to tell us if you do, okay?" I nodded. "Okay." She smiled sweetly at me. "You're very special, you know that?"

"H...huh?"

"You're an albino. Do you know what that means?"

I gulped. "I...I...I'm a freak...a..and I'm worthless...a...and I...I'm the devil's child..."

"What? No, sweetie...No, no, no. It means your special. Who told you all that awful stuff?"

"My Mommy and Daddy..."

She looked at me sidelong. "Otis, are you sure you don't remember what happened?"

Tears welled up in my eyes. I hid my face with my hands.

"Because I think I know what happened to you, sweet boy." She sighed. "Did your mommy and daddy do this to you?"

I could only sob.

"You poor sweet baby...You don't deserve this...You're not worthless. You're not a freak, and you're certainly not the devil's child."

I rubbed my eyes, trying to will myself to stop crying. I had never heard anyone say anything positive about me.

I felt sick all the sudden. She must have known because she handed me a trashcan. I threw up, screaming at the pain in my ribs as I did. She sighed and handed me paper towels to wipe my face.

"It'll be okay...You'll be okay."

She left me to rest for a bit, for which I was grateful. When I woke, the man was back in my room with Gloria.

"Otis, I don't think I introduced myself. I'm Dr. Hader. I'm taking care of you with Gloria, okay? Now, I need to check on you. I just need to take a look at you, okay? I won't hurt you."

I stared at him apprehensively as he approached me. He reached out to touch me and I flinched away. He didn't give up like Gloria did. I threw myself back again, shrieking. "NO! NO! DON'T HURT ME!"

"No, no...shhh...It's okay. No one is going to hurt you." He tried again. I flinched and covered my face, sobbing.

"N...noooo." I moaned. I felt his hand on my shoulder. I trembled under his touch. He gently rubbed circles on my skin with his thumb.

"It's okay, Otis..." I shook. He still had his hands on me. He could strike me at any moment. "I heard you ate something, but then got sick. Do you want to try eating again?" I shook my head. "Why not, buddy?"

"B...b...Because...I...I'm f...fat...M...Mommy s...said i...if I lose weight sh...she...she might l...love me."

"No, Otis. She's not right. You're not fat. You...you are severely under weight. And you know what?" He pulled my hands away from my face and tipped my chin to look up at him. I screamed, trying to get away. I was so fucking scared. If I had drank anything that day, I definitely would have wet myself. I breathed heavily. "Shhh...You know what? She should love you anyway. Because you are a very cute little boy."

Gloria smiled. "And you're going to be a very handsome young man."

I tried to stay still as the doctor examined me, but him touching me scared me so much. Touch had always meant nothing but pain and hatred. Whenever someone had touched me, it had meant pain and misery. I was so scared whenever he lightly brushed his fingertips over me, so careful not to disturb any of my injuries.

"Hey, Otis. Are you more comfortable sitting up like this?"

I hesitated. I didn't seem to hurt as much. I nodded.

"Okay. See, sitting up like this takes pressure off of some of your broken bones. So if you feel more comfortable, that's great. We'll leave you like this, okay?"

I nodded. I was still scared, but I had a feeling they weren't trying to hurt me.


	5. Chapter 5

I started to get better, and I started to trust Dr. Hader and Gloria more. I started to gain a little weight, which scared me a lot, but they told me that I needed to. I still got sick a lot on the food. I wasn't used to eating that much and my body didn't like it.

I still didn't like people touching me. It still scared me a lot. But Dr. Hader and Gloria were understanding, and didn't try to push me.

Gloria walked with me down the hallway of the hospital. She had been trying to get me up and walking the past few days. I leaned heavily on the I.V. pole, willing myself to go on. My hip still hurt a lot, but it was getting better.

"Okay, sweetie. That's enough. I can tell you're hurting. Remember, you have to walk back to your room, too." She helped me turn around and we walked back. "You did so good today, sweetheart. You should be very proud of yourself."

"W...why?"

"You're doing so good. Isn't that reason enough?"

I looked away from her, as she tucked me into my bed. I felt her brush a little too close to my groin, and I almost came through the roof.

"Shhh, what's wrong? Did I hurt you? I'm sorry if I did."

I shook. "N...no..."

She cocked her head and rested her hand on my upper thigh. I closed my eyes, tears rolling down my cheeks. "Oh, no...Please tell me you weren't...Otis..Otis look at me." I raised my head to meet her eyes. "Y...You weren't...r...raped...?"

"N...No...D...Daddy...D...Daddy l...liked to fuck me..."

Gloria flinched. Her eyes closed and she looked heartbroken. "That's...that's the same thing, sweetheart...It's a terrible, horrible thing to happen to anybody. Let alone a sweet little boy like you..."

I continued to get stronger, and they started talking about letting me leave the hospital. I was excited to be able to go out again. I couldn't wait to be free.

"Sweetheart, where will you go when they release you?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. I...I was jus' gonna go..."

"Well, you're too young to just be on your own. you need someone to take care of you."

"I'll be okay."

I heard them talking about putting me in a foster home. I didn't know what that was, but I knew I just wanted to be on my own. So, in the middle of the night, I snuck out. I felt bad. They had been so kind to me and had showed me that not everyone was out to hurt me. But I couldn't risk being someone else's toy again.


End file.
